Invincible (not quite)
by dri-dri93
Summary: He was immortal. He could evade any scrape, dodge any bullet. If he did get hit, he bounced right back. It was the law of the universe - everyone knew it. But laws are always meant to be broken.


Well, to make up for not updating GitM, here is a short little oneshot.

I've started the next chapter of GitM, but no promises - sports start soon for me, and I also have AP commitments to take care of. Blech.

* * *

**Invincible (not quite)**

It was a normal day. No one could have ever guessed what was about to happen. Even so, happen it did.

The Avengers had been called that morning (Evil robots? Must be a Tuesday.) and they responded, as ever, with speed and ferocity. The threat had been neutralized yet again. But what no one told the world was that two of their number had disappeared – vanished into thin air. Even the spies and their organization could not track the two scientists. They assumed (why should they not?) that the engineer had simply followed the Hulk as the green giant ran off, as he was sometimes wont to do. They assumed that they would be okay.

It was Tony fucking Stark. He simply couldn't die – they knew that much.

**xXx**

"Hey, Clint?"

"What do you want, Cap? I'm busy over here."

"Do you think we can find them?"

"If Tasha and I can't, no one can. Even SHIELD doesn't have our contacts."

"What if they're hiding right under our noses?"

A sigh. "Steve, if you're that worried, go out and look for them. Remember, we last saw Tony to the south. Hulk ran west when he was done."

"I know. They always come back…right?"

"Yeah, Cap. You know Stark. He'll show up tomorrow, drunk off his ass and flying a repaired suit with a broken rib. He's a smart guy, he'll make it."

"You're right. But I'm going to go check anyway."

"Ok. Be back by seven – I'm cooking tonight."

"Mmm…burgers and milkshakes?"

"Exactly."

**xXx**

But then two days passed, and the biologist showed up on their doorstep in rags, carrying a change of clothes and riding an old bike (the memories that brought back…). He said that the man in the metal suit hadn't followed him, hadn't found him where he lay, miles away from any civilization in the Appalachian Mountains.

That was when they started to worry for Tony Stark. Maybe they were wrong.

**xXx**

"Bruce?"

"Yes, Natasha?"

"Are you sure…"

A deep breath, let out in a rush. "I'm sure, Natasha. I rarely remember anything after the other guy takes over. Trust me, I would tell you if Tony had…if he'd been hurt near me, or anything like that. Tony is one of the few things the Hulk likes – I would almost say that the Hulk cares for Tony like a little brother."

"I see. Well, I'll leave you to you work."

A snort. "I haven't been 'working' since I came back. It's amazing how hard it is to track the reactor – you'd think it'd be releasing some kind of energy."

"So do you have a lead? We're running out of time. He could be hurt out there."

A growl, deeper than normal. Eyes turned green flash to the redhead. "I _know_. _He_ knows. I'm having to slow down so that _he_ won't try to find him in his own way, okay? Just…please. You're not helping."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Banner. I'll leave you to it then."

…

"And Bruce? If the Hulk wants to try and find him, Steve's going out to look in thirty minutes. Maybe his nose could help."

"Maybe."

**xXx**

The world still knew nothing, of course. The Avengers reasoned that they would riot, that no one would accept their honest platitudes and promises that yes, they were looking as hard as they could and no, they couldn't track him.

They found the suit the next day, twisted almost into scrap metal, in a dump just outside of the city. The suit had been their only hope. Without it, the man was not only defenseless, but untraceable. He carried no other electronics within the engineering marvel. He didn't even really carry any kind of food or water. All he had was a small flask of whiskey.

The flask was gone. The suit was destroyed. Now they searched frantically for any sign of Tony Stark.

**xXx**

"Doctor Banner, I must insist that you aid us in our search!"

"Thor, I am really having issues right now with the other guy. You are _not helping!_"

"I must apologize, good doctor. But I worry for the man of iron. He is not as strong as an Asgardian, and even we cannot last long without sustenance. Your other half's nose would be a great aid to our endeavors."

"Thor, please just _not right now!_"

"Doctor Banner? Will you help us – urk!"

"_**FIND METAL MAN!**_"

Smashing sounds as the lab is demolished, and the great beast jumps free.

**xXx**

The world found out in the worst possible way. A homeless man found the body of one billionaire, lying on the ground beside train tracks. He stank of alcohol and decay, and the clothes he wore beneath his armor were ripped and bloodied in so many places that they was barely recognizable as clothing.

The homeless man hailed another man, who immediately called the police, at a nearby street corner. The first-responders reasoned that the billionaire had been attempting to follow the tracks back to the city, but the loss of blood had killed him, just as surely as hunger or thirst could have. The Avengers were notified first. They sat silently, in the tower bearing the name of the dead man, and mourned.

The great Tony Stark was dead. And this time, he wasn't coming back.

**xXx**

A phone rings insistently. A groan, and the receiver clicks as it is picked up and then placed on speakerphone. A group gathers.

"Excuse me? Is this the Avengers?"

"You are speaking to Captain America. Have you found him?"

"Ah…I am truly sorry, Captain. We need you and your team to come down to the station."

"The station? What the fuck? You arrested him?"

"Why would you detain the man of iron, voice from the device?"

"He's done nothing wrong, officer."

"I understand that, sirs and ma'am. Actually…I wanted to tell you this in person…I need you to ID the body."

"_**WHAT?!**_" Stumbling steps as green flushes skin.

"That asshole is _not_ dead. You are just fucking with us! How much did he pay you?"

"Stark's fine. Tell the truth."

"The man of iron is most hardy! Do not jest about this matter, voice!"

"Guys, guys, calm down. I…I think he's serious. We need to go there, anyway. If he's alive or…not…"

"Thank you, captain. The sooner the better."

"We'll be there, officer."

**xXx**

The people didn't riot, didn't storm the tower and beg for words. They bunched together, admirers of the hero creating their own shrines to the man. Each shrine was different, but every single one had one thing in common with the rest: a simple picture of the man, with a red and gold frame.

**xXx**

"He would've liked the monuments."

"Yeah. He would've he was like that. Had to have his fucking fans."

"Clint…don't blame yourself."

"You're one to talk, Banner. I know that look in your eyes."

"Maybe, but I actually had a chance. Hulk could've found him."

"Dude, Tony was…Tony died within hours of getting out of the suit. He was dead before you were even back."

"I know…but I can't help but think…"

A sigh. "Yeah, I gotcha, Doc. We all feel like that. Hell, even Thor is quiet."

…

"Doctor Banner?"

"Yes, Natasha?"

"Was there really no hope at all?"

"Well, the metal shard severed the femoral artery and would have scraped against the bone with every step he took. It would have been painful, not to mention the pain from his other injuries. I suppose he was lucky in one respect, though."

"Oh?"

"He was so intoxicated by the time he died that he would have been completely numb. He didn't feel a thing."

"That's…good, I guess."

"Yeah."

…

"Good doctor, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Thor."

"Did the man of iron die a good death?"

"Um…pardon?"

"When he died. Did he perish fighting, with his weapon in his hand?"

"I suppose so, big guy. It was a lingering death…but you could call it a good one."

"That is most heartening. We shall see him again in Valhalla."

"Right. You will. I don't know about me…"

"Bruce…I know that someday you will find a foe that can best you. Even the gods are not immortal. And when you do, I will fight beside you and we will fly together to Valhalla in the arms of the Valkyries."

"Right. Good to know you think so."

…

"Doctor Banner, I have to ask you to put the gun down."

A cynical snort. "Why is it that people always try to tell me to put the weapon down?"

"Maybe because we're afraid of what you can do with it?"

"I suppose. Do you think _he_ would've let it work this time?"

"Pardon?"

"Would the other guy have just let me die?"

"I don't think that is a healthy train of thought, doctor."

"No, but nothing about me is really healthy."

"Well, even if you're not 'healthy,' you keep all of us up and fighting. You can't clock out on us now."

"Coulson did."

Breath is caught at that idle comment. "Phil was…he fought for a cause. You're just looking for a way out."

"I'm so tired, Steve."

"We all are. But you can't give up. He wouldn't want to see you up there before your time."

"I know. But some days…I just…you all expect me to listen to you, to heal you, to be your therapist, surgeon, and even pharmacist – not to mention chemist, biologist, engineer, _and_ inventor, now that Tony's gone. It's too much."

"I…I never thought about it like that. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Just…let up every once in a while, okay? I break under pressure, and my breakdown is normally very ugly and involves me turning green. Or shooting myself."

"Are you…"

"Trying to lighten the situation? Yes."

"Well…give me the gun, just in case."

"Here you go. I probably shouldn't keep it."

"Feel better, Doctor Banner."

"It's Bruce, Steve. Just Bruce."

"Okay, Bruce. I hope you feel better."

"I do, too."

**xXx**

Tony fucking Stark may have died in an ignominious way, but the world would remember him as he lived: a hero, one who rose from his dark roots to atone for his wrongs.

On that day, Iron Man was laid to rest, and the world mourned.

* * *

I seem to have a penchant for killing Tony in horrible, lingering ways. You may call me... **FEELS-KILLER THE FIRST**! (That's for you, Remy! 3)

Tremendous amounts of thanks to my dear beta, RemyMckwakker, for putting up with my strange ideas and plot bunnies. Also for telling me just how much I need to do. This would've been 500 words shorter (no dialogue) without her help. Love ya, Remy! :D


End file.
